


Kanpai!

by dustbunnyprophet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Chihokogate, Drinking, First Kiss, Humor, JJStyleWeek, M/M, Mistaken Identity, day2, endgame JJSeung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 20:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11448366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustbunnyprophet/pseuds/dustbunnyprophet
Summary: The first time they kissed it was a mistake. The second time they did, it wasn’t.A JJSeung fic.JJStyle Week 2017, Day 2 - Favourite Ship





	Kanpai!

_ The first time they kissed it was a mistake. _

 

The night was balmy, late spring air filtering through the open windows, and carrying the scent of the garden into the banquet room. Jean leaned an elbow on the windowsill, inhaling the fresh air. The buzz of chatter and loud laughter washed over him. Words and sounds mingled into something that could have lulled him to sleep. He sipped his beer, enjoying the moment. Beyond the orange light of the banquet room, the Katsuki garden was shrouded in darkness, and Jean watched it swim lightly. He had probably overindulged in his drinks tonight, but he was content, and those were worries for the next morning. 

If no one was concerned about how they were going to perform their ice show tomorrow, Jean was not going to either. He had a feeling he might come to regret that particular line of thought the next morning, but right now he didn’t care. He was happy, spending time with his fellow skaters, laughing and thoroughly enjoying himself. 

His lips pulled in a large grin, and he moved from the window, looking at the banquet room of the Katsuki inn. Chris was sprawled over Phichit’s lap, resembling a giant cat, while the Thai seemed to be completely oblivious of the blond’s presence, deeply engrossed in a discussion with Leo, who was nodding and drinking what appeared to be sake. Guang-Hong was passed out nearby, a small line of drool making its way down his chin. Yuri was sitting in a corner, pouting, while Altin sat next to him, apparently silent. Victor had lost most of his clothes, and was currently trying to coax an equally divested Katsuki to dance to some imaginary tune he must have been the only one hearing, since Jean was fairly sure there was no music on. There were a couple of people he was not familiar with, who were adding to the general rowdiness of the assembled crew. 

Jean finished his beer and stumbled towards the other side of the room to get another one. He was so happy to be here. It was perfect, really. This whole ice show had been a magnificent idea, and Jean was ecstatic about it.  _ This  _ was what he had missed ever since his novice days. He had friends back home, but ever since he had joined the Junior division he had struggled to connect with the other skaters. There had been a season when he and Altin had shared the same rink, and for a year they had been friends, Jean teaching him the quad Salchow, but after the Kazakh left their relationship dwindled very quickly. With Lee it had been even worse. The sullen Korean being unapproachable even when they were sharing a rink, let alone afterwards.

Having been invited to participate in this ice show, spending time with his fellow skaters, it was everything he had been hoping for. If it hadn’t been for Isabella’s absence Jean would have wished this night to last forever. 

He chuckled to himself, grabbing a  fresh bottle of beer, and opening it. 

Izzy’s absence wasn’t aching, like it had used to be in the beginning of their relationship when being apart had been the most difficult side of his profession. But even if he had learned to be without her, he still missed her presence. Her jokes, her teasing, her dry comments. She was more than just his fiancée, Isabella was his best friend. 

It would have been nice to share this evening with her.

Taking a gulp of his beer, he wandered towards Leo and Phichit, who made space for him on the floor. They were discussing the merits of country music, or lack thereof in Leo’s opinion, and Jean was happy to butt in the conversation. It quickly turned into a heated debate cum photosession, with Phichit grinning like crazy and snapping photos and posting them on Instagram while adding to the discussion amid peace signs and goofy expressions. 

Jean could not remember the last time he had had so much fun. Especially when Chris decided to join them, turning his head in Phichit’s lap so he was facing them. They started arguing whether “Jolene” was a queer song or not, and before he knew it, Jean and Leo were singing it a cappella, with Phichit and Chris clapping the rhythm. Guang Hong moaning for them to shut up, while Yuri cursed loudly from his corner of the banquet room. 

When the song trailed to its end, they bowed dramatically before falling in peals of laughter. Someone handed him another beer and Jean drank it greedily, his throat parched. He knew he had drunk enough to toe the line between tipsiness and drunken stupor. Or perhaps he had already crossed it without noticing. It didn’t matter. He was having the time of his life, and everyone was laughing, joking, enjoying themselves.

His legs were wobbly but he managed to get back to his feet, swaying as he moved around the room, socialising, bending down in laughter at something one of the Japanese women said. She had been Katsuki dance instructor he learned shortly after when she had challenged him at downing shots. He had no idea what he was drinking, but the woman was funny, and Jean was pretty sure the room had not been spinning before.

He deliberated on whether to take another shot when a familiar head of jet black hair passed by. And Jean put his glass down. Isabella didn’t like it when he drunk too much. Not that he did it often, but still. The ballet instructor said something to him but it flew right over his head, as he looked for his fiancée. She had been there, just a second ago.

Frowning, he made his stumbling way across the room, colours and voices blurring as the room spun horribly. He had latched onto someone’s arm, about to ask them where Izzy had gone when he saw her. And his feet propelled him across the room where she was leaning against the wall, head dangling forward.

He was about to ask her if she was okay, but she lifted her head just as he approached her. And his hand cupped her cheek. It felt strange against his skin, like his palm was not accustomed to it’s shape. Like it was the first time he was holding her. But Jean did not think too much about it because she leaned into the touch, her hand catching the fabric of his red t-shirt. Leaning his head to kiss her was the most natural movement.

And yet her lips were different.

She parted her mouth, and the kiss deepened. It was so strange, so unlike any kiss they had shared, but it made his heart stutter and kick into a fast pace, slamming against his breastbone, while his stomach fluttered in a way it had not done in a very long time. Jean sighed into the kiss, pressing closer to her, and grasping her waist. Her nails were digging into his shoulder, and it sent a surge of want through his body. His teeth closed on her bottom lip, nibbling temptingly, trying to convey the effect she was having on him.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the elation that had been coursing through him the whole evening, but this kiss, it was something else entirely. It pulled at the buried veins of need inside him. It made him trail his mouth down to her neck, and capture the soft skin between his teeth. And the small gasp that escaped her lips was so heady he could have kept going until he reached the juncture of her shoulder and neck. In all the years they had been together Jean had never been so tempted to throw all of their resolves into the wind, and cross that one last boundary.

It had never been hard to wait, especially after they had gotten engaged. But this, this kiss was driving him insane. The way her fingers were running up his biceps and under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Nails biting into his taut flesh. It was all he could do to stop himself from dragging her out of this banquet room. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

He wanted to.

Jean forced his lips to part from her skin, forced his body out of her grip, stronger than ever. She made a small noise of protest, halfway between a moan and a groan, and Jean squeezed his eyes shut, struggling not to catch her lips into another kiss. Because if he did, there would be no stopping.

She inched forward, her lips chasing his, but he gently pushed at her shoulder, opening his mouth to tell her to stop.

But the only thing escaping his lips was a choked gasp.

Because in front of him, gripping his shirt for dear life and looking at Jean with dilated pupils and unabashed want was  _ not  _ Isabella. Swollen lips, and cheeks tinged with a flush that travelled all the way down his neck, it was a very drunk Seung-gil that was moving forward, dark eyes determined to continue where they had stopped. 

To kiss him.

And Jean could do nothing but stare at him in abject horror, feeling all the blood drain from his face. He stammered something, he didn’t know what, before he tore free of Seung-gil’s hold. And then he was stumbling into a run, flying out of of the banquet room with all the drunken coordination he could muster, while his mind kept replaying the kiss over and over and over again.

He had thought it had been Izzy. He had thought it had been his girlfriend, his fiancée. He had completely forgotten she was  _ not  _ in Japan. Fuck. He had kissed Seung-gil, thinking it was Izzy.

And the worst part was, he had enjoyed it. 

 

_ The second time they kissed it was no mistake. _

**Author's Note:**

> I think this one works well as a oneshot, but I also itch to write more. What do you think? Should I add more chapters? Write a companion piece from SG's pov? A split pov multichapter?


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